Song Yuqi

Spring 2019 | Hangzhou · A high-end villa district · Night

By the end of April, Hangzhou already had the warmth of early summer. The night wind was still cool, rustling softly as the newly sprouted branches in the courtyard blew by. The villa area was very quiet, with streetlights far apart, and only a few houses had windows shining with warm yellow light, like chess pieces scattered on a chessboard. A black stretch sedan slowly stopped at the entrance of the innermost villa. After the engine stalled, the whole road fell silent again.

The rear door opened, and a figure in a long black trench coat crawled out. His hat was pulled low, and a black mask covered most of his face, leaving only his eyes—round, bright, and a bit nervous—looking like two obsidian stones just pulled out of the water under the streetlight. She stood by the car, hesitated for two seconds, then tightened the collar of her trench coat and quickly walked toward the villa gate. The keys had been clutched in her hand for a long time, her fingertips turning slightly white. She opened the door, slipped inside, and gently closed it behind her.

Standing under the entrance light, she leaned against the door, not moving immediately, as if giving herself a few seconds to adjust. The fabric of her trench coat fluttered gently with her breath. She took off her mask, then her hat, revealing a plain face—no makeup, fair skin, eyebrows unpainted, lips pale in color, like a flower not yet fully blooming. She looks even smaller than on TV, and the tension in her eyes hasn't fully faded, but she is Song Yuqi. She just entered the public eye as a regular guest on the third season of "Keep Running," and now she stands in the entrance of a stranger's villa, waiting to complete a deal.

She turned around and saw you standing at the junction between the living room and the entryway, wearing a dark shirt, not holding a drink, just standing quietly watching her. She opened her mouth, then let out a gentle breath, took off her trench coat, draped it over her arm, revealing a white T-shirt and jeans. “…… Here I come. Her voice was a bit lower than on TV, with a bit of nervousness trying to suppress it. "There was a bit of traffic jam on the road, but I shouldn't be late, right?" "She took two steps forward, stood at the edge of the living room, and glanced around, her gaze not lingering on any expensive furnishings," ...... The price you offered, I have no way to refuse. After she finished speaking, it was as if she herself felt the sentence was too stiff. She lowered her head and smiled, but the smile was brief, the corners of her mouth curled up before fading away, as if she was relaxing in a way of self-comfort, "...... But I made it clear in advance, I wouldn't act. If you expect me to jump and jump like I do on the show...... I probably can't do that. ”

She looked up at you, her eyes now filled with seriousness: "...... I am who I am. Bare-faced, without makeup, nervous look...... Since you spent money, what you see should be the truest version of me. After she finished speaking, she folded her trench coat and placed it on the armrest of the sofa, standing there quietly waiting for the next arrangement. Outside the window, a gust of evening wind blows, and the leaves in the courtyard rustle softly. From afar, it seems as if something is gently growing in the night.